All-Story Detective, October 1949 — page 92: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

92 gun out. He showed it to her, then dropped it in the drawer again and slid it closed. He lit a cigarette. “Now, honey, you say ‘yes’ to Mel, like I been tryin’ to get you to do for the last two months. Then everything will be okay. I’ll give you a perfect alibi. I’ll tell the cops you were with me, riding, when Sam got shot. I'll throw the gun away. They won't be able to prove a thing without the weapon. Sam had dozens of enemies. They'll think he | went up to your place to wait for you and somebody else came in and killed him.” “Tf—if I don’t marry you?” He shrugged and his face got mean and ugly. “I don’t like for girls to say no to me, baby. I’ll see that the police find this gun—and the 1.0.U. that you gave Sam. That’s all they’ll need. They’ll know Sam was killed in your place, that you owed him money. And when they trace the gun and find out it came from your desk at the parking lot . . . honey that’s all they’ll need to send you to the chair!” He tried to put his arm around her again. “Aw, baby, don’t make me do it. I can give you everything. A pretty “apart- ment, a car, clothes. . ..” She shook her head. She seemed dazed. “But I love Dan.” “That sniveling coward.” She closed her eyes. “I—a girl can’t live with a man she doesn’t respect,” she whispered. “But I can’t stop loving him, just the same.” “‘He wants to divorce you,” Mel swore. “He told me tonight he was going to start divorce proceedings in the morn- ing.” Dan was beginning to get the whole picture. The whole fantastic scheme sounded like Mel Duggard, all right. Dorothy had probably been a little daz- zled by his car and money at first. But she hadn’t really cared anything about him. She’d refused his advances. Mel All-Story Detective couldn't take that. It would drive an ego- maniac like him out of his mind-for a girl to refuse him. ee Dan walked off the porch and stood on the sidewalk. He knew what he was going to have to do. His thin, pale face was clammy with sweat. Mamber had said. “time comes when you really got somethin’ big to fight for, the Lord will give you stren’th—” Dan prayed for that strength now. He had something plenty big to fight for— Dorothy’s life. He had thought it all out tonight when he sat on the bed in his apartment after Mel beat him up. He’d thought about what Mamber said, “You ask whut makes a man a coward, boy? Well, it’s: cause something taught him whut fear is when he was a right young-un. He wasn’t bo’n afraid. He learned it from somebody or somethin’... .” Dan had thought about that a long time and had finally come up with the answer. He’d dug back into his child- hood and he remembered how his Pa had been. A weasely, sniveling man, always afraid. Afraid of losing his job, afraid of getting sick, afraid of his boss. A kid_ought to have an old man he can brag about and make his hero. But the spineless, whim- pering excuse of a father Dan had only taught him to fear. He’d lost his first fight with Mel in the second grade, After that, Dan hadn’t tried any more. Well, he wasn’t going to get over being afraid. As long as he lived, there would be that awful, sick weakness inside him. But he’d never let it show again—to Mel or Dorothy. It was just something he and God would know about. He opened the front door and walked into Mel’s room and his legs were water and cold sweat was gluing his shirt to his thin chest and his stomach was twisted up in a knot. He was so scared he couldn’t trust himself to speak. He only stood there, blinking to keep his eyes clear. COMmicloo (C S (©